


fix·a·tion

by fshep



Category: Persona 4
Genre: M/M, Oral Fixation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9495881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fshep/pseuds/fshep
Summary: 1. a preoccupation with one subject, issue, etc.;obsession.





	

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title: born 2 suck dick

“Is that good?”

By throrough experimentation, it turns out Souji’s lap is a great place to be. Through two layers of uniform pants, Yosuke can feel how hard Souji is—the way he rolls his hips up, desperate for some kind of friction. It’d be easier, maybe, if Yosuke was facing him, so he could get a hand between them both and make things nice and even, but that’s not how Souji'd wanted to do things.

“Yosuke,” he says again into his ear. Yosuke must've zoned out. “How is it?”

 _It_ is the rhythm he’s established, hand shoved underneath the waistband of Yosuke’s slacks past a sloppily-opened belt and undone zipper. Yosuke tilts his head back against Souji’s shoulder, dizzy.

“Ha,” he pants. “Good. Keep going.”

Humming an affirmative, Souji does, tightening his grip and twisting _just right_ —

“ _Fuck_.”

Souji flinches as if startled, shushing him quickly. “Wait, keep it down. If my uncle hears—”

But his hand belies his words, increasing the pace, and Yosuke couldn’t suppress his helpless moans even if he tried. He really _wants_ to try—shit’s embarrassing, and the threat of Dojima venturing upstairs in search of what’s causing all the racket isn’t one to be taken lightly—but Yosuke’s gotten so _wet_ and in the haze of arousal he’d totally risk getting shot by Dojima if it meant he got to come like this.

“ _Yosuke_ ,” Souji whispers desperately. When Yosuke shows no signs of quieting, he covers his mouth with his unoccupied hand.

The finger that rests naturally between Yosuke’s lips is Souji’s middle. He doesn’t think; he simply opens his mouth and pulls it inside with his tongue. Souji makes a noise that sounds like something caught between a gasp and a cough, hips lifting.

“Wha… _Oh_ ,” he sighs, burying his face into Yosuke’s hair as soon as Yosuke starts to suck.

It’s not enough. Saliva gathers quickly in his mouth and although Souji’s fingers are long, it’s _not enough_. He sucks hard, swallows, and gently bobs his head. Belatedly he realizes he’s still making noise, although now it’s more of a muffled whine; he’s so close to coming, if Souji could just—

As if Souji's reading his mind, he shoves two other fingers into Yosuke’s mouth, ring and pointer—and that’s _much_ better, albeit messier. His lips don’t form a perfect seal anymore so it makes sense that he’d start drooling. He can feel it on his chin and he wonders distantly if he should be embarrassed about this, but how can he when Souji's fucking his mouth and he’s fucking Souji’s hand?

He comes hard, tongue pressed firmly to the pads of Souji’s fingers. He’s out of it for a solid minute or two, only venturing out of his pleasant daze when he notices that Souji is still moving against him, breathing in soft, uneven gasps.

Also, he hasn’t moved his hand.

So Yosuke sucks gently and Souji  _writhes_ , finally pulling away to haphazardly undo the front of his pants. Yosuke leans forward, giving him the space to do so, and turns around so that he can watch. The hand he uses to grasp his dick is the one that’d been in Yosuke’s mouth, which can’t feel as good as if he’d chosen his dominant hand instead, but—it doesn’t matter, because Souji's eyes squeeze shut and he spills over his fist within moments.

Unable to help himself, Yosuke crawls back over to him and presses their lips together. Souji’s only half-responsive, which is fine.

He pulls back just enough to look at Souji without going cross-eyed. “You alright, partner?”

Souji’s gaze locks onto Yosuke’s mouth. The corner lifts, twists into a grin he knows is a little too smug but, shit, he _knows_ he’d made Souji feel good and damn it he has a right to feel confident every once in a while, doesn’t he?

“Yeah. Wow,” he adds at length.

Yosuke pecks him again. “You should’ve let me take care of you too.”

“You did plenty. But if it makes you feel any better, you can get me next time,” he says with a shy, modest smile.

The phantom feeling of warm fingers on his tongue still remains.

“Yeah,” he says. “I will.”

 

* * *

 

Yosuke stares at the line of Souji’s shoulders until he decides to touch them. He shouldn’t; they’re in class, but there’s still a half an hour left before lunch and if he doesn’t find something to occupy himself he’s fairly certain he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Souji twitches when Yosuke’s fingers brush against his back, light and discrete. The uniform fabric is a little rough and it catches underneath a dull nail. Faintly, he hears the sound of a torn page; next, a note’s tossed back onto Yosuke’s desk.

_That’s really distracting._

Yosuke fights a grin. _Sorry not sorry, partner. ;)_ He wants to add more, make it into a proper conversation because while it’s not as fun as pawing all over Souji, it’ll suffice. He taps the fingers of his left hand against the desk, sticking the end of his pen into his mouth—

He yanks it back out with a quiet _pop_. Souji jerks in his seat like he’d been in the process of turning around before remembering where they were.

_Y’know, I’m not feeling very hungry. Let’s do something else today. Meet me in the bathroom?_

He takes his sweet time folding the note back up and then reaches forward, slowly, lazily, extending his arm around Souji’s torso to slide it onto his desk. He watches for a reaction and smiles slowly when he sees him fidget.

As soon as they’re dismissed, Yosuke’s out of his seat and bounding toward the door. Someone—he’s not sure who—asks Souji if he has any plans for lunch; he catches bits and pieces of Souji’s shaky excuse before humming his way to the bathroom.

There’s always a rush of students as the lunch hour begins, so he kills time by checking his phone and primping in the mirror. It occurs to him that he maybe he should feel nervous or dirty, but all he manages is a fluttery sense of excitement that only heightens when Souji walks in.

He meets his eyes in the mirror and maintains the contact even as Souji ventures to the sink so that he can wash his hands; whether he truly cares for personal hygiene or simply needs something to do until they’re alone is unclear.

Not that it matters. Yosuke pushes aside the door to a stall and gives it a once over. A bathroom in itself is far from ideal, but it’ll work. He slips inside and deliberately leaves the lock unhinged.

Silence finally reigns; Yosuke is hyperaware of his heartbeat.

Souji cautiously pushes at the door, fitting his way inside and locking it behind him.

“This is risky,” he whispers.

“Yeah. Couldn’t wait, though. Wanted you.”

He slides down to his knees and his fingers find purchase at Souji’s waistband.

Souji breathes “Oh,” like maybe he’d been thinking about this but hadn’t dared to ask. His hands hover in the air, unsure of where to keep them.

Once he pries open the front of Souji’s slacks, he shimmies them down enough to expose his boxers. Souji's half-hard; he watches his dick twitch and strain beneath the fabric.

Mortification kicks in late as he notices his mouth is actually _watering_. “Fuck. I… we don’t have enough _time_. I want to take my time when I do this.” He keeps his voice low, swallowing hard. Souji trembles and clutches at the side of the stall. The next words he mutters are pressed against his length. “Sorry, Souji. You’re gonna have to deal with my hand.”

“That’s fine,” Souji says in a rush. “Just—come up here, please.”

He does. As soon as he’s upright, Souji pushes him against the stall door for a kiss. It creaks beneath their combined weight and if someone walks in now they’re _done_ for. But the bathroom is silent save for their panting, shuffling and distinct sound of a zipper—

“Shit, yeah,” Yosuke groans, his head smacking back against the door. “Faster.”

Souji complies, lowering his head to nip and suck at Yosuke’s neck now that it’s exposed. He’s always so careful not to leave any marks; eventually, when he’s not _occupied_ , he’ll have to applaud his looking out.

He hikes one leg up around Souji's waist so that they fit closer together. Positive it looks completely wanton and humiliating but determinedly ignoring that, he squirms.

“Tighter, dude, c’mon.”

A gust of warm breath fans over his neck as Souji laughs. “I never expected you to be this bossy.”

Yosuke snickers right back. “Get good, and I won’t have to be.”

Souji bites the shell of his ear in retaliation. It’s not a very effective means of punishment; Yosuke moans happily.

Naturally competitive, Yosuke wants Souji to come first, so he reaches for Souji's idle hand and slips a few fingers into his mouth again. It’s different, this time, because they’re facing each other, so close that Souji has nowhere else to look but Yosuke’s lips. Whether it’s the sensation itself or the image it presents he doesn’t know, but it’s enough for Souji to finish quickly and bury his face against Yosuke’s shoulder.

Between the saliva on Souji’s hand and his own cum to slicken his hold on Yosuke’s cock, it’s warm and wet and exactly what Yosuke likes. He squeezes Souji close with his leg as he tips over the edge, quite _literally_ almost tipping to the side and busting his ass. Souji's there to catch him, though, laughing airily against the side of his face.

They work together to get clean, wasting too much toilet paper and debating whether or not the massive wad will get stuck when they try to flush it down.

Some of Souji’s hair is out of place so Yosuke reaches up to fix it. His jacket’s skewed, too, collar unnaturally downturned—so he fixes that too. Souji stays put, indulging him, and smiles when Yosuke leans in to kiss him.

During the last class of the day as his stomach aches and grumbles with hunger, he almost regrets skipping lunch. That is, until the bell rings and Souji twists in that seat, lowering his voice so that the girls don’t hear, and says, “That thing you mentioned doing earlier? Do you want to… I mean—tonight?”

What he _wants_ to do is spread Souji’s legs and drop down between them, right here and right now, just to maintain that pretty blush—but he _does_ need to eat and there _is_ the small concern of public indecency.

“Your place?”

Souji nods, doing his best not to look too eager.

“I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

There’s not a lot of fanfare. Dojima isn’t around to serve as the first layer of defense and it turns out that’s because he’s grocery shopping with Nanako. It’s a modest window of time but not nearly as much as Yosuke would like.

He resolves to make the most of it.

Souji’s spread flat on his futon with his legs as far apart as his pants will allow. He’d suggested taking them off entirely but Yosuke couldn’t wait, had to get his mouth on Souji's dick as soon as possible.

He sucks on the tip and precum gathers at the slit. In fantasies, throughout nights of research, this is what Yosuke feared he’d hate the most, more than a sore jaw and dubious gag reflex. A common complaint was that it tasted too salty, even a little bitter—enough to make someone vaguely nauseous. When he manages to lap away Souji’s with startling ease, he wonders if he has slutty taste buds or some shit—but then he recalls a forum post from this girl hiding behind an anonymous tag raving about how much she liked to go down on her husband. _He tastes so good. It’s because of our diet!_

And Souji does eat healthily, his bentos packed with a surplus of fruits and veggies, but—he _also_ texts Yosuke things like _I don’t think pudding is supposed to taste sour_ so he’ll take that claim with a grain of salt.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter _why_. It matters that it _is_ good, makes the experience lightyears more enjoyable than he’d ever dared to imagine. He doesn’t have to pull back to wipe away the excess; instead, he glides his tongue around the head of Souji’s cock and swallows the precum with ease. When another spurt follows soon after, he lowers his mouth to spread it along the length with his lips, making it slicker, even easier to pull back and push down.

“Yosuke,” says Souji, and that feels good too. He chants Yosuke’s name with utter reverence. “You—I can’t believe… Ah—!”

He tugs on Yosuke’s hair like he can’t help it, thrusting into his mouth. It’s nice to see Souji, usually so calm and collected, lose his cool—but he doesn’t want to gag, not _once_ , so he pulls away to shoot Souji a glare and pinch his thigh.

“Sorry! Sorry, I… got carried away.” He flushes, abashed.

“I know. No worries, dude.” His eyes wander the length of Souji’s body; it writhes softly beneath his scrutiny. “Just try not to do it again, alright? I’ve got this under control.”

“Yeah,” Souji says heavily, “you do. What—are you… I mean. How did you get so good?”

And _fuck_ , that gets Yosuke a little hot under the collar, pride making him lightheaded.

“The _Me_ of a few months ago would die before ever saying something like this, but, heh. I think I’m just… naturally talented.” Minus the face-fucking thing, but—he’ll get there. He wraps his hand around Souji’s dick to absently rub the side with his thumb. Souji watches avidly. “Of all things, right? Couldn’t have been something more useful, like playing an instrument or, I dunno. _Math_.”

“Well,” Souji ventures, “this is a lot more fun than math.”

He snorts. “Figures you’d say that.”

Taking Souji back into his mouth, he closes his eyes and takes a moment to just _feel_. The weight of it, the warmth—even the slight ache in his jaw fills him with such an overwhelming sense of satisfaction that he moans softly. He’s so fucking hard that it’s borderline mortifying; he knows that all it’d take to get him off would be a few good strokes.

He doesn’t have enough experience to deep throat Souji—not yet. But he sure as hell makes it a personal goal.

Instead, he grips the base of Souji’s cock and jerks him off in time with the way his head lifts and falls. Intermittently, he pauses to suck, to pull back and kiss the slit, tongue beneath the head; at the latter, he flicks his eyes up to watch Souji and finds him watching back.

He winks.

Souji groans. “Only you can manage to make that look good instead of corny.”

The perks of doing it on a regular basis, he supposes. He’s a natural. He takes a moment to grin before resuming.

It’s almost disappointing when Souji’s noises gain their telling edge; he’s going to come. _Almost_ , because as much as Yosuke is unrestrainedly obsessed with going down on him, he’s eager to see the culmination of his effort.

He hollows his cheeks and sucks, determined to stay put and swallow whatever Souji’s got to give, but Souji pushes at his shoulders.

“W-Wait, can I… your face?”

 _Well._ Yosuke’s brows lift with surprise; still, he backs away, jerking him to completion. “That’s pretty dirty, partner.”

Souji tenses, gritting his teeth. “I… don’t want to hear that, _hah_ , coming from _you_.”

Yosuke closes his eyes with a hum. Cum splatters on his brow, his cheek, his chin—his lips, too, and he’s tempted to lap it away but he’ll wait for Souji to make that call.

As it turns out, he won’t need to. Souji sits up, leaning over to hoist Yosuke close and lick at his mouth until they’re exchanging what’s gotta be their filthiest kiss yet. “You’re amazing,” Souji murmurs, clutching onto his shirt. “Do you want me to…? I doubt I’ll be anywhere near as good, but I can try—”

Yosuke shakes his head, fumbling for the front of his pants. “Don’t bother. Already close.”

Souji stares at him with fascination but doesn’t hesitate to help, enclosing his hand around Yosuke’s so that the entirety of his cock is engulfed. “You really _do_ like doing that.”

“Ngh,” he replies intelligently, going completely boneless as he finishes. Souji’s there to support him, not even complaining at the cum staining his uniform. What a guy.

“I’ve got you,” Souji soothes. He says the stupidest shit after an orgasm.

It’s endearing.

“Yeah,” Yosuke says. “You do.”


End file.
